The Language of Cities

Kindercore;
2002

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Named after a second-fiddle Italian luxury car, Athens, Georgia's Maserati set themselves up for a superb
analogy with the world of motorsports. A curious coincidence points us toward such a comparison: what band's
name starts with "M", ends with "I", and plays grandiose, instrumental post-rock? If you said Mogwai, you
made the right call. So the question, then: does the analogy hold water? The answer is twofold: sort of,
but not really.

Let's start with the "sort-of". Maserati sort-of treads a path that's been blazed two or three times over.
They describe their sound as "instrumental U2, with punk rock roots." The first half is easy to hear in
their huge, confident sound, full of spacious, atmospheric guitar work, grounded by a tight rhythm section
and prominent, dynamic basslines. In essence, Maserati employs the same approach to post-rock that Mogwai
does (as opposed to the more hollow sounds of a band like Godspeed You Black Emperor!). The punk half of
their self-description is less apparent, appearing in the attacking moments of songs like "Keep It Gold".
Even then, the jabbing, punk-inflected guitar work is eclipsed by a propulsive low-end, which is in turn
overcome by distortion and prog flourishes. Maserati are far less fiery than they are moody: there's nothing
unsettling in their mix, and they seem allergic to math and dissonance.

Now, as to the "not really" half of our prong, the results Maserati achieve may sound familiar in this
oversaturated genre, but they're not unwelcome. Though they don't break new ground, they walk field adeptly,
boasting superior execution and occasionally impressive moments of fusion. "Being a President Is Like Riding
a Tiger" is one of those moments, where a solo guitar meditates for three minutes until drums enter,
hastening a Godspeed-like tempo and flavor. After another minute-and-a-half, the composition draws back,
shifting gears to steel itself for crescendo: a recurrent two-measure melody carried by the bass alternates
one measure in 16th notes and a full measure of rest. Spiraling above the bass are a pair of charged,
supernal guitars that gradually swell as the bass modulates to play both the melody and the rests. At
full bore and full volume, the band musters a powerful climax.

The band doesn't reach the same heights again on the disc, but comes close on a few tracks. "Cities" follows
a similar form, with a restrained, tense opening that segues into an uptempo jam that, while anchored by a
prog bassline, is punctuated by more stratospheric guitar work. The slower material-- like "Ambassador of
Cinema" and "The Language"-- is also pleasant and well executed, but its meandering nature and lack of
distinguishing hooks ultimately renders it innocuous. Verdict: Maserati may be redundant, but not
undesirably so. They take what's already been done and infuse it with their own aptitudes and energies.
The results are just fresh enough to remain engaging.